Catalyst
by Frenetic-Kinetic
Summary: Post-Jak 3. When a homeless Taryn is put up by Jak and Daxter, it begins a series of unexpected events. Multi-chapter.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I decided to explore the Jak/Taryn pairing a little more. I already had a multi-chapter story in mind, and, funnily enough, reviewers of _Third Time's The Charm_ suggested I do a follow-up.

* * *

**~ One ~**

Perplexity, resentment and rejection – it was impossible to merge all three emotions and display it on a face in one look, but, somehow, Taryn managed to do just that. Green eyes narrowed at the taunting nature of the padlock on her door; against the knowledge that she hadn't the strength to pull it free, her gloved hand futiley tugged. It was her friend's place, really, but, since they had shed the mortal coil, she couldn't afford the rent to stay – hence the oversized padlock. She let go of it and turned away to observe the cloudy, afternoon sky.

So far, today had not been particularly good, nor astonishingly bad, but the blue-haired teen was in the mood for a strong drink. _To The Naughty Ottsel it is_, she thought grimly. As she traversed the cleaned up, rebuilt Slums, her heavy-duty boots lazily scuffed against the ground, her mind almost willing rain to fall; then, at least, she could get a little sympathy for being soaking wet.

Pushing such depression from her psyche, she wondered who would be at the tavern tonight and if there even _was_ a drink strong enough to cheer her up. It was a possibility that Daxter would let her sojourn in the place. Then she could spend the entirety of tomorrow 'house-hunting'. Where a place could be found was anyone's guess, but that wasn't important right now.

* * *

_The Naughty Ottsel_ was not packed with people – a weekday, bad weather and pre-peak time were the culprits. Still, Taryn supposed it was for the best; she would hardly make good company tonight. If she could just sit, drink and listen to the patrons' banter, everything would be _peachy_. At the bar, Orange Lightning himself was pouring drinks. With a silent nod, he had her favourite beverage instantaneously before her stool. There, she parked her behind and attempted to relax.

"Tarry!" came a cheer from her side. Puffing on his cigar and taking a seat two down from her, Jinx appeared perfectly at ease. With an inward sigh, the teen gave a half-hearted greeting. She _hated_ that nickname. Sense had told her to kill him the first time he used it, but his ghost would have probably haunted her instead.

The pyromaniac was already talking Taryn's ear off, so she occasionally nodded at his remarks or shook her head. Eventually, however, those reactions weren't satisfying enough, and he tilted his head to the side, studying her disposition.

"You're helluva quiet today," he remarked; she couldn't tell if he was genuinely worried about her wellbeing or merely making conversation. Then again, did it really matter? The subject was going to come up, sooner or later.

With a deep breath, her confession emerged. "I'm homeless."

A question was hidden within that remark – _can anyone put me up?_ – and the intuitive blonde immediately picked up on it. "You got no place to go, right?"

There was a nod and pleading optics.

"I can't put you up."

"You _can_. You just need to empty your attic of girls."

He mock-sighed at her suggestion. "That's a lot to ask, Tarry."

"Ugh, please don't call me that," she grumbled. "Makes me sound like a man."

"Well, ya _do_ kinda act like one, sometimes." That earnt him a menacing scowl that threatened a beating, but he refused to back down that easily.

The blue-haired adolescent paused for a minute, then decided to push for an answer. "_So_?"

"'_So_?' what?" Jinx teased. Her beseeching expression had him sighing in exasperation. "Seriously-"

"When are you _ever_ serious?"

"_Seriously_, I just can't. The place ain't mine, and, even if it was, there's no room, alright?"

"Okay. Fine." Taryn's tenor contradicted her reply. "Do you know anyone else?"

"Why don't ya ask yer good friend, _Ashelin_?" the blonde teased. "She could prob'ly find someplace temporary, at least."

She frowned. "No thanks."

"Still got a problem with authority, huh?"

"Maybe a little."

"Ya know she ain't KG anymore. All that old crap's outta this city."

"I'm getting used to it."

"So, you _will _talk to her?"

"No."

"Well, I'm outta ideas." He sipped from his glass. The teen's brow furrowed, as she struggled to conjure any other sensible ideas for temporary lodgings.

Daxter, who had previously filled himself with drink, thankfully keeping him mute, finally piped up. "Why're you homeless, anyway?"

"My roommate…left," she said carefully. "I stayed, free of charge. Since they're gone, I can't afford the rent."

The Ottsel nudged her arm and raised an eyebrow. "I got _just_ the place for ya."

"Where?"

"A spare room that's never used."

The blue-haired beauty felt a mixture of relief…and apprehension; it sounded too good to be true. "Alright, what's the catch?"

"Well, Jak uses my pad as a harem lounge, but, if you don't mind that, it's fine."

She buried her face in both arms. It had been expected that his answer to her problems would miraculously have nothing to do with homelessness, but she really didn't want to associate Jak with the word 'harem'.

The pyromaniac wore a grin on his face and, with a puff of his cigar, asked, "The place got any other _definin'_ features?"

Taryn thumped him this time, perhaps harder than necessary, but she was still mortified by the entire conversation. He let out a cry of pain, which she ignored. Turning to Daxter, her face was quizzical. "Please tell me that Jak thing isn't true…"

"Ooh, jealous, are ya?" the pint-sized, orange hoodlum grinned. Elbowing her, he added, "Betcha wish you were part of that _entourage_."

With a roll of the eyes, unable to keep her cheeks darkening a little, the adolescent decided to concentrate on finishing her drink. "You've got one more screw loose than I thought."

"Who hasn't in this dump?"

"True."

There was silence again.

"So, Taryn, what's the verdict?" Orange Lightning enquired.

"Hmm?" said female murmured, dodging the question.

"Stay at my place for the night, eh?"

"Oh, I don't know…"

"Just say _yes_, Tarry," Jinx sighed. At her reluctance, he added, "Look, ya got no place else."

Staring at her beverage, getting lost in the pool of golden liquor, she allowed herself a minute to consider the offer of lodgings. The answer was simple, but something kept refusing to give way. Her emerald optics darted between the males, and her shoulders slumped. She gave in. "Alright, Fuzzball. I'll stay with you, but _only_ tonight." Her stomach grumbling, she rose from her seat. "I'll get some eats and my things, then meet you back here."

"Sure thing," the Ottsel grinned, watching her walk away.

* * *

Daxter's home was tucked somewhere between the Port and rebuilt Gardens, which was perfect for him to move quickly between his bar and into Haven Forest with Jak. The Ottsel had trotted alongside Taryn, pointing out the shortest route to get from place to place, and she was grateful that he took the time…although slightly irritated about him acting as if she was staying for more than one night.

The house itself was relatively small, although larger than the teen was used to; the places she stayed had always been half the size, at best. The narrow, long hallway led into a connected kitchen-lounge – there were dishes, cutlery and even tools scattered all over the place, along with paraphernalia dotted about the walls, which consisted of a calendar, a couple of posters and a clock that looked like it came from the Old World.

"Oh, you just moved in?" she teased, pointing at the mess.

He gave his best, mock-affronted pose. "If yer gonna be rude, I'm not lettin' you stay."

She stuck her tongue out, then grinned and followed him up the narrow flight of stairs, towards the bedrooms. The guest room was the last on the right, and, as the pair entered, her eyes lit up in surprise.

As with the rest of the abode, it wasn't as small as expected and, besides the thin layer of dust, was clean and tidy. It consisted of a single bed against one wall, opposite a wooden chest of drawers and standing mirror; this was to the right of a large window, which offered a generous view of the world outside.

It was more than enough. Apart from sleeping, Taryn didn't really do much time at home. She was a nomad at heart and often on little odd jobs around Haven.

She had just one bag of precious possessions and was practically settled in already. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, she let out a deep breath to calm herself. Concerned about her wellbeing, Daxter hopped onto the end of the bed and gently patted her knee in reassurance. Grateful, she returned a soft smile.

He beamed and hopped off, trotting out of the room. "I gotta run, so I'll leave ya to it. Sleep well!" The door shut behind him.

Taryn looked around the room again. An unexpected yawn escaped and she opted to go straight to sleep. She settled on the surprisingly comfortable mattress and cuddled under the blanket, then turned off the light and closed her eyes.

* * *

By the time Jak returned home, it was the middle of the night. He lazily stumbled through the hallway and into the kitchen-lounge, flicking on the light. Tossing his jacket over a chair, hooking off his goggles and propping the Morph Gun against a solid surface, he decided on a drink, before heading up the stairs and towards his bedroom.

Just as he sipped from a glass, there was a sudden noise from the floor above. Cerulean eyes narrowed. He silently put down his drink and retrieved his weapon, then stealthily slinked upstairs. Whatever it was, footsteps were coming from the bathroom…and heading his way. Pausing outside the room and holding the gun in his arms, he awaited the stranger's appearance.

The door opened and out stepped Taryn. She visibly jumped, optics wide and breath hitching. With a relieved sigh, Jak lowered the Morph Gun and ran a hand through his collar-length hair. Dressed in tight, charcoal pedal-pushers and a red t-shirt – which was the closest thing she had to pyjamas – her drained face, slumped body and rumpled hair showed signs of fatigue. Glad to no longer be in the sights of a Blaster, she coyly waved, unsure about his response to her presence.

_Perhaps it'd be wise to say what I'm doing here_, she considered. "I…um…I…" she stammered, which wasn't a fantastic start. Clearing her throat and regaining some confidence, she began again. "I didn't mean to startle you. I'm staying the night."

To her surprise, he seemed puzzled, as if hearing that for the first time. It then occurred to her that he had.

"Daxter didn't tell you, did he?" she huffed. With a shake of the head, Jak let out a groan and shrugged. _Typical Daxter_.

"It doesn't matter, 'though."

"I didn't realise. Look, if it's putting you out…"

"It's not," he said. "Stay."

She blushed and looked at her feet. "Thanks," was the quiet reply.

Sweeping a hand through his blonde-green locks again, he decided the atmosphere was in need of cheering up. And there was a glass waiting downstairs with his name on it. His face broke into a charming smile. "Thirsty?"

Taryn nodded. It had been a long day, and it would be nice to be in the presence of a _normal_ man, for a change. _I can't sleep, anyway_.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Jak is really good fun to write. I like that he isn't overly angsty or happy and even seems to come over as playful and mischievous at times. Unfortunately, he doesn't appear that capable of sweet talking women. "Deal" is not asking nicely, Jak. XD By the way, Taryn's nickname, Bloo, is from the character in _Foster's Home For Imaginary Friends_, who reminds me a lot of Daxter…only somehow more hyperactive.

* * *

**~ Two ~**

It had seemed a good idea at the time. Tired and lacking the motivation to walk halfway across the city, Taryn was offered a lift – by Jinx, of all people. Yet she now felt deep regret at agreeing to such a thing. He refused to stop asking about any _late night activities_ she and Jak might have taken part in. Her initial response of "we just talked" hadn't doused his dirty sense of humour at all.

"Shut _up_," she groused. "Or, so help me, I'll kick you out of this cruiser."

"Gee, _somebody's_ grumpy today," he chuckled.

"Thanks to you."

"Ya know what I think?"

"I'm afraid to ask."

"I think yer grumpy, 'cause ya didn't get lucky with Pretty Boy."

She stared at the passing surroundings, silently fuming. Unfortunately, there wasn't a way to get away from her blonde, cigar-smoking friend today. They had received a task from Torn, which involved delving into the mucky, dank Sewers and retrieving an unusual artefact. She would have declined, had it not been for her financial dearth.

For the entire ten minutes of her silence, Jinx relentlessly rambled about various things involving Jak – most of which were sordid. It was making the concept of her living arrangement far more awkward; she hoped her burning cheeks hadn't visibly coloured. To hopefully blot out the pyromaniac's words, her psyche focused on what she had discussed with the blue-eyed eighteen year old the previous night. There wasn't much to recall, since her fatigued brain had only worked at half-capacity, but it mostly regarded Daxter's kindness. She had also clarified that it was to be a one-night sleepover; today was for finding a new place to live.

"I am really not in the mood for this crap right now," she muttered, leaning her weary body against the seat and crossing both arms across her chest.

Not one to be discouraged, Jinx playfully tugged her arm and took a brief look at her disgruntled countenance. "Sure yer up for headin' through the Sewers? I _can_ go this mission alone."

"No," she insisted. "I need the money."

With the many distractions, she hadn't even noticed they were already in the Industrial zone, and, in a matter of minutes, the cruiser swiftly traversed the tight, metal passageways, settling neatly by the ramp that led into the Sewers. The blonde hopped off the vehicle and was already charging to the large, silver door, but Taryn took her time and eventually joined him, not understanding why he was so alert and eager this early in the morning.

The locks clicked and door split in twain, allowing them to progress. Instantly, stale air assaulted their senses and she gagged; it had been a long time since going underground and she was no longer desensitised to the odours.

Traversing the narrow grates that formed makeshift pathways, anything would have been good enough to distract her from such surroundings, but she decided it would be particularly entertaining to enact vengeance on the pyromaniac for his earlier comments.

"I'm surprised you were convinced to come back down here, considering the way Daxter described your _statue_ adventure," she smirked. When Krew had assigned the demolition duo with a mission that involved escorting Jinx, Grim and Mog to the Statue of Mar, Taryn had wished to be a fly on the wall.

The elaborate rendition involved Krew's men being scared out of their wits and incapable of defending themselves; the Ottsel, of course, had saved the day. Jak was blatantly discredited as the pathetic sidekick – the comment rewarded with a light slap across the back of Daxter's head.

"Bite me, Bloo." Obviously, Jinx's masculinity had been brought into question. "_You've_ never fought anythin' bigger than a Metal Bug."

There was a frown and fold of the arms. "Metal Bugs might be small, but they are a royal pain in the butt. At least Grunts are big, lumbering things – makes them easy to hit."

"Damn it, don't say that! They'll come in packs and we'll be dead meat!"

"Hey, _you're_ the jinx, not me," came the cool reply.

He glared. "This is for what I said earlier, right?"

"Yes."

"Are ya gonna do this the whole way?"

"Maybe. _Unless_ you take back everything you said." She beamed, possessing the innocence of a newborn baby. But he wasn't that naïve. _Innocent, my ass. What is it with broads and their grudges?_

"Fine. _Fine_. I take it back. Leave my emasculated pride in peace."

"I promise."

* * *

After what felt like an age, the pair reached a large, open section, which had been drained of most of its water over a year prior. Against the far wall lay a sodden box, made of Precursor metal and covered in ornate whorls. In the centre of the lid was a bulbous, blue gem, which shimmered from an inner light source. It appeared completely untouched, apart from the padlock, which had rusted to almost nothing and would be easy to break off.

However, just as Jinx advanced and prepared to do so, Taryn froze and turned a hundred and eighty degrees. He nudged her, but she didn't look away.

"Thought I heard something," she muttered.

He sighed. "Cut it out and lemme work."

Convinced it was her overactive imagination, her expression softened and she returned to the matter at hand, handing him a crowbar from her backpack. "I hope you can get that chest open, because I really don't like the idea of lugging the whole thing back to HQ."

The blonde went about removing the lock, which quickly loosened and clattered to the ground, the fierce sound of metal striking metal resonating throughout the entire area. Unfortunately, that was merely stage one. The lid of the chest had become jammed against the main body. In order to free it, he began gently moving along the lid with the crowbar.

Taryn's head swung around at high speed, something abruptly capturing her attention. It was that unusual sound from before, only more distinct this time…and on the move. The pyromaniac hadn't appeared to have noticed, which made her wonder if she really was imagining it. Heart pounding, mind racing, she peered into the stygian gloom. Taking a couple of steps forward, prepared to shoot the disturbance if need be, she was startled by her friend's yell. Her pistol aimed at whatever had caused such commotion.

And she groaned.

Perched atop the box, flicking its long tail from left to right and glowing a brilliant shade of gold, was a Muse. The teen lowered her firearm and replaced it into its holster, then struck Jinx across the back of the head.

"Damn it! What was that for?" he cried, gripping his skull.

"Next time, it'll be the crowbar," she snapped. "You're such an idiot." Upon looking at the 'frightening creature', with its oversized orbs of dark green staring inquisitively at the two humans, the situation turned humourous. "This _definitely_ tops that escort mission. Absolutely _priceless_."

The adorable animal, halfway between a cat and squirrel, bounded off and landed next to Taryn. The latter tentatively held her hand out, and it was sniffed, then gently head-butted. The Muse purred loudly and eagerly chirruped at Jinx's curses, as if in retort. He grumpily retrieved the crowbar and resumed his work.

After a good few minutes of levering, the lid finally came free. The blonde was then able to push it off and get to the contents. As expected, the item they needed was sat within – roughly the size of a football, rounded, and covered in more glyphs of Precursor writing.

It appeared that the golden creature was excited by such a find, as it crouched and wiggled its behind. Jinx grabbed the device and fitted it into his backpack, then returned the crowbar to Taryn. After petting the Muse, she gave it a small wave goodbye. With their job done, it was high time to depart.

* * *

Out of the dank Sewers and into the (relatively) fresh air of the Industrial zone, Taryn stretched and let out a relieved breath. Activating the communicator, Jinx relayed the positive news to Torn.

"_Good work. We're one step closer to getting a new Sage."_

"Great," the blue-haired female remarked, with a notable lack of enthusiasm in her voice. "Am I getting paid now?"

"_Hold your horses. There's one more thing I want you to do."_

"Oh, joy."

"_Just deliver the device to Keira. That's all. Then come back to me, and you'll both get your damn money."_

"Right. I can do that," she cut in, before the blonde could respond. He simply shrugged, not seeming to mind too much. "I'm heading there, anyway."

"_I don't care how it gets there – just that it does, and in one piece."_ The line went dead.

"Always a tight-ass," Jinx retorted.

"_Oh_, yes," Taryn eagerly agreed.

"Ya know," he began, handing her the ornate device. "Ya seemed happy 'bout pettin' that little yellow thing. I didn't know ya liked animals so much."

"I like you, don't I?" she cheekily shot back, which earnt an elbow to the arm.

"Heh. Well, since yer doin' my work for me, I'm off to get my money. Comin' to the _Ottsel_ for a night cap later?" he asked.

"Not tonight," she said.

"Ooh, ya got a date?"

She didn't appear at all amused. "You promised to _stop_." Her arms folded and she thoughtfully tapped an index finger against her bottom lip. "Or I'll tell people you were frightened by a glowing kitty-squirrel."

"Alright, alright." He clambered into the driver's seat of his cruiser. "Ya need a lift to the Stadium?"

"No, thanks. I could do with the walk."

"Suit yourself." Jinx gave a wave and the vehicle soared off.

Taryn then made her way through the ruddy-lit area. Walking was good, she thought. It would allow her mind to wander – which was impossible with the pyromaniac around. A checklist cycled through her mind. There was much-needed money to collect from Torn, work to do for Keira at the Stadium and somewhere else to stay for the night. _Torn had better pay me_. She had very little in the way of savings, but it was intended for life-and-death emergencies – ergo, it was _not_ to be touched. She did also earn a little pocket money from helping out Keira with the hoverbikes and refurbishing the place for its big opening. _Every little helps._

Taryn was feeling very focused, and that would surely serve her well; perhaps all of her problems could be solved by sunset.

* * *

Deeply absorbed in modifying the engine of an outmoded J87 racer, Keira was currently preoccupied with rifling through a toolkit, searching for a specific screwdriver, and would not have even noticed the blast from a bomb if it had been right in front of her eyes. For Taryn, that meant said mechanic would be a perfect target for a little mischief. All it took was a tiptoe towards the latter, followed by a loud clear of the throat. The turquoise-haired grease monkey flinched, the tool almost flying out of her hand, then stood and approached her assistant. With a little wave and green optics sparkling mischievously, Taryn handed over the strange device recovered in the Sewers.

It diffused Hagai's scowl. "Thanks." She awaited the typical pleasantries, but there was something obviously bothering the taller teen. "What is it?"

"I'd like to help with the bikes tonight, but I _really_ need to search for somewhere to stay. I was hoping I could…?" Taryn shrugged, her sentence trailing off, but the query was clear as day.

Keira batted the problem away with a swish of her hand. "Take a few hours to get a place. Come back at, say…" She checked the rectangular digital clock bolted to the wall. "…six? Then you can start helping with the fenders."

"Great. I _owe_ you for this." Overcoming her pessimism and thankful for having the mechanic as a friend, the blue-haired adolescent trotted away. Her next destination was the Freedom League. So far, things were looking up.

* * *

Dead on six, she returned to the garage. Hagai would have dared to ask how things had gone, but the disheartened disposition explained everything. Taryn had discovered there was literally _nowhere_ else to stay but with Jak and Daxter. Another night at their place…another night _freeloading_.

Whenever she felt down, work appeared to be a good distraction, so she sauntered off to the room next door – mainly to avoid the bombardment of questions. Keira was a caring soul, yet that was sometimes her greatest fault. The last thing needed was a 24/7 pity party.

As asked, Taryn began straightening the chassis of a J90 racer. She just wanted to get things done around the place and let the anger of a bad day fade. Then it would be less of a humiliating ordeal to admit to the demolition duo that she was _still_ homeless.

Unfortunately, the latter came sooner than she was prepared for.

"Hey, there, Sweetheart! How's it hanging?"

That voice could have only belonged to Orange Lightning. He had silently entered, along with Tess, which meant Jak was also around…_somewhere_. Why would the Ottsels waste a perfectly good form of transport?

"You forced your _best friend_ to let you ride on his shoulder, didn't you?" Taryn sighed. "How'd you do it?"

"Jak's open to bribery," Daxter grinned. "_Way_ open."

"_Really_? What was the peace offering?"

"A gun mod."

"So, you bribed him with a _toy_."

"Yeah. He's a big kid, really."

"Well, at least _this time_ you actually gave him something for it," she sanguinely replied.

"Oh, we wouldn't do it for free! That would just be so wrong!" Tess insisted, bounding up onto the trophy rack beside the human and observing what was being done to the Air Racer.

The latter gave a pointed look. "But how did _you_ get a lift here, Tess?"

"Jak's a gentleman."

_With an obvious weakness for the fairer sex_, Taryn thought to herself, sighing.

After a minute of obviously ominous silence, Tess continued, overdoing the casual speech. "So…how have you been?"

Not fooled for a second, the green-eyed female raised an eyebrow. "If you have something to say, just say it."

"You find anywhere else to stay? Or am I comin' to yer aid again?" Daxter asked. Both women frowned at the lack of tact, but he merely shrugged. In his world, things were better out in the open, and there was no point pussyfooting around.

"Ugh…" With a slump of the shoulders and a groan, Taryn pointed an accusing finger. "I shouldn't even be talking to you right now…not telling Jak I was staying."

"Yeah. Sorry 'bout that." There was an awkward, guilty scratch of the head.

"'Sorry' does not cover me being half-asleep and having the Morph Gun pointed at my face."

"Double sorry?"

"Just don't – _please_ don't – do it again."

"Do what?"

Daxter saluted the arrival of the blue-eyed eighteen year old. Without asking, the Ottsel began reeling off the trio's conversation, and it took several minutes for Jak to even attempt a word in edgeways. The girls laughed.

"Glad you've cheered up," Tess smiled. Taryn's face dropped; those words would probably begin the dreaded pity party. As expected, Jak was concerned and wanted to know what was happening.

"Cheered up? What's wrong?" His expression softened, but her reluctance kept her silent. "Come on. You can talk to me."

There was no getting around that, so she relented. _Might as well ask now, rather than later._ "I was wondering if I could stay at your place another night."

He was ready to respond, but the orange furball dived in and interrupted. "Sure ya can! That spare room's warm and waitin'!"

"Dax…" Jak groaned, pressing a gloved hand to his face, but, when he looked up, his countenance quickly lightened. Embarrassed, Taryn couldn't meet his eyes, turning back to the hoverbike and pretending to refocus on work. To gain her attention, he affectionately nudged her with his arm. Not expecting it, she flinched. "Don't worry about finding another place. You can stay with us as long as you like."

"Are you sure? It wouldn't put you out or anything?"

"No, it's still not putting me out."

"Thanks, Jak."

"Hey!" the Ottsel barked, affronted about not also being thanked. "What about me?"

Chuckling, she patted the top of his head, as if he was merely a pet cat, and not a Precursor. "Thanks, Fuzzball."

In all honesty, such generosity and kindness hadn't been expected, if she was to base opinions of the pair on hearsay. Several tales of Daxter's self-sacrificing deeds did not bear repeating, which seemed somewhat absurd, since he was the one that had begun them, whilst Jak was commonly talked about by the Haven populace – mostly of how he saved the world, could channel all forms of Eco (a debatably good or bad thing, given his apparent "dark side"), and even the occasional gossip about the pros and cons of placing him on the city's throne. As a simple man, however, there was little that could be said. His closest friends knew of some likes and dislikes, but that was it. The only person that could spout every little detail of the man was his furry friend.

A pat on the shoulder returned Taryn's psyche to the present. She was faced with a warm smile from the inseparable pair. There was a little thumping noise, as Orange Lightning hopped onto his buddy's shoulder armour.

"We're gonna head off," Jak remarked. "You take care, okay, Taryn?"

"Okay," she agreed, then turned to Tess. "Are you staying or going?"

"I wanna catch up with you and Keira. I haven't seen either of you in _ages_!" Tess remarked.

"See ya later, girls!" Daxter cried out, animatedly waving. The boys exited the room, passing Keira on the way, where she and Jak shared a hug.

Curious and unable to stop herself, Taryn subtly observed from the corner of an eye. As ashamed as she was to admit it, seeing those two embracing made her feel a little uneasy – not that she disliked them being so close, but it obviously meant any interaction with Jak would be purely platonic; the friendship between the three of them would become awkward if Taryn made a move on him.

Raising a scrutinous brow and leaning over, Tess cleared her throat. "Tarry?"

"Hmm?" The taller teen would have complained about the nickname, but she wasn't quite cognisant at that moment. Being prodded, she quickly became alert and frowned. "_What_?"

"Lost you for a second, there. I was seriously considering saying 'Haven calling Taryn', but a poke works just as good."

"Oh, right. I'm fine."

"You didn't _look_ fine. You were watching those two hugging. Did you want one?"

Taryn didn't like what her friend was getting at. "Stop it."

"Okay, okay. It really is a surprise, 'though. I didn't know you and Jak _lived_ together." Just as Tess finished her sentence, the mechanic entered the room.

"Who lives together?" Keira enquired.

"Taryn's bunking with Jak at the moment," the female Ottsel elucidated.

Hagai looked surprised. "You live together?"

"It's temporary," Taryn retorted, a tad hastily, wary of people grasping the wrong end of the stick – a petty misunderstanding, resulting in a rift between them all, would be unbearable – so added, "It was Daxter's idea. I stayed there last night. And it looks like I'm going to be there for a while longer."

A nod and smile from Keira was a relief. It appeared she wasn't at all bothered by such things. Even with a potentially problematic matter safely sailed past, the air remained awkward and Taryn felt unsure how to make conversation; after failing to join in the banter between the other two women, she abandoned chit-chat for labour and silent contemplation.

Matters were a little bumpy at present, which accounted for her petulance, but, with two good roommates in a guaranteed domicile, things were definitely looking up. And, when she went home, there would hopefully be a hot meal and at least one decent night's sleep awaiting her.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** I keep watching the cutscenes over and over, to study the characters, but everyone is still hard to write. :(

* * *

**~ Three ~**

_What time is it?_

Green optics struggled to focus on the little silver clock atop her bedside table. Her sight bleary, it took several seconds for the digits to become legible. _Nine?_ Was that morning or evening? The curtains were drawn, making it difficult to tell, so she sat up and clambered off the bed, heading for the window and drawing the drapes.

Stars faintly twinkled in the pitch black sky and the moon had reached its waxing gibbous phase. Time had flown; already a fortnight had passed since Taryn's moving into Jak's place, and she had quickly settled into a routine. Tonight, she had slept well into the evening – the result of working into the early hours, but the extra money had been worth it.

Pushing the curtains back across the window, she headed to the chest of drawers, hunting for something more suitable to wear than makeshift pyjamas. She found some charcoal work boots, black jeans and a short-sleeved red shirt, then wandered across the hall and into the bathroom.

Taking a good look at herself in the mirror, she cringed. Her skin was paler than usual, although her cheeks were flushed. Splashing her face with cold water and drying it with a towel appeared to give a healthier glow. Her cobalt hair was a shambles, so she grabbed her brush and tugged it through tangled locks, gritting her teeth at one particularly large knot. Once it was free, she let out a relieved puff and left, trotting downstairs and entering the kitchen.

The house had been strangely quiet when Taryn stirred, but it was only now, after awakening properly, that she realised nobody was around. In a way, it was a pleasing feeling to be allowed to relax and listen to the absence, but also a tad barren, especially without the Ottsel's cheery – albeit loud – voice or Jak's smooth baritone filling the room. At least there a portable radio sat on the table. Trotting over to it, she pressed the 'on' button, but nothing happened. Her eyes narrowed. _Typical_.

"Maybe the power pack's dead," she muttered to herself, tugging the back open and checking the power gauge. It was completely drained. She fixed the back on and decided to go on a hunt for another power pack, yet the kitchen-lounge was in utter disarray, making such a thing near-impossible. Grunting at her bad luck, it was decided to be worth her time cleaning the area up.

She began with the kitchen – dishes, cups and cutlery piled up in the sink, pens and paper scattered all over the counters and half the table, and the bin filled to capacity. Giving a shrug, she first chose to deal with the sink, but couldn't locate any washing-up liquid; trying to find some swallowed an entire ten minutes. At high speed, she travelled around the room, clearing up as she went and hoping that, in the course of it all, she would locate the washing-up liquid and a power pack for the radio. Fortunately, the former was in a cupboard…right next to the cereal, of all things. It was pulled out and planted in a more sensible place, next to the sink.

Once the kitchen was orderly, the living room was next – beginning with the couch. The seats and cushions were askew, so Taryn quickly straightened them; in the process, she found a remote in the sofa, which didn't appear to belong to any device. Placing it on the arm of the couch, the rubbish was all collected in a bin bag _accidentally_ found. Only…she wasn't sure where to put it, where it would be out of the way.

That was when she considered the door in the hallway, next to the entrance. Sauntering along and noticing it was unlocked, she trundled down the stairs and entered the basement. It took a second to find the light switch and her surroundings were illuminated by a barrage of spotlights fixed into the ceiling. Green eyes widened at what lay before her.

It was an enormous workshop. Where Taryn stood was full of vague objects covered in dust sheets, and shelves to the left and right covered in various books, racing trophies and bits and pieces of Precursor artefacts – several things were blatantly bizarre. On the floor sat a number of toolboxes. The hindmost portion of the basement had been converted into a garage. Three small steps, bordered by railings, led down to a circular parking spot. The door at the far end was currently closed.

Breaking herself from the fascinated trance, Taryn recalled the bin bag hanging from her hand and the reason she was down here in the first place. Spotting a dustbin in the corner of the room, she raced over and crammed the rubbish inside. Chores now done, a relieved breath left her lips and she decided to take a break. Against a little wooden desk, which was surprisingly clear, sat a wheelie chair. She sauntered over and planted herself on it, leaning back and closing her eyes, resting them for just for a moment…

* * *

It was decided that Torn's poker face was _impossible_ to read. After attempting numerous times to decipher whether the brunette held good or bad cards, Jak chose wisely to give up and just focus on his own hand. He inwardly sighed – luck was keeping its distance tonight. He had already lost a _lot_ of money; Torn and Jinx, on the other hand, were holding their own. Daxter soared ahead. It was a shame Pecker had other plans tonight, because of his enthusiasm about fleecing his rival of money usually taught the Ottsel a lesson – unfortunately, that did not always end in the Monkaw's favour, due to Orange Lightning's 'knack' for playing.

"Are ya _sure_ yer not cheatin'?" After losing his three deuces, Jinx had become concerned; apparently, if he had swindled anyone, it would have been alright.

"I don't have to. I am a _natural_," Daxter replied, haughtily pressing his hand to his furry chest to exemplify his own brilliance. "You just suck."

The pyrotechnician did not appear convinced, but would have let it drop, had it not been a joy to antagonise the orange sidekick. "Prove it."

Affronted, the Ottsel year old pointed a digit. "How about _you_ turn out _your_ pockets? Since yer so keen on the idea of cheatin'?"

A verbal fight began, which Jak attempted to stop, but that failed terribly. Fortunately, Torn's voice rose about everyone else's, immediately silencing the group. "Just play and stop acting like a bunch of girls."

"Hey, uh, does that include Jak?" Daxter cheekily enquired. Said male narrowed his blue eyes, shaking his head and ignoring such asinine remarks, instead shuffling the pack of cards and dealing again. The game continued in such silence, save for ambient noises, until a large grin spread over Jinx's face. He had teased half of the dynamic duo – now it was the other's turn.

"How's havin' Bloo around workin' for ya, Blondie?"

The teen froze, keeping his gaze set upon his cards and hoping his face was devoid of any emotion giving away that he hadn't wanted such a question asked. No matter how he answered it, the pyrotechnician would somehow twist it and turn its meaning into something indecent.

"Things are fine," the blue-eyed male replied.

"She's good company," the Ottsel piped in. "When she's around, of course."

"Well, if she's good company, I'm surprised at ya," Jinx retorted. "Ya left the poor girl all alone and you're here playin' poker. She coulda joined, ya know." He leant back in his chair and gave a victorious grin at the flash of annoyance in Jak's optics.

"Don't tip my chair, Jinx," Torn commanded.

"Or what?"

"_Or_ I'll turn you into a human card dispenser."

Said blonde did as he was told, more than mildly worried that the ex-KG would follow through with the threat; yet, that still wasn't enough for the former to stop grinning like a pumpkin.

"So, Keira's almost ready to channel Eco?" Torn casually remarked, taking another card from the pile.

"Yeah." Jak gave a look of thanks for the subject change. Well, discussing his ex-girlfriend wasn't ideal, but it was a start. At least he could keep the subject business-orientated. "That device in the Sewers was an Eco detector. It needs recalibrating, but it'll work out what type of channeller Keira is. Samos is talking about sending Dax and me out for more artefacts. Keira hates the wait, so she's distracting herself with preparing the Stadium for its big opening."

"Ol' Green Stuff has kept us busy; we've been doing nothin' _but _workin' for the past month," Orange Lightning said. "We need one good night out." He didn't attempt to hide the mischievous gleam in his eye and added, "Should get you down the Red Light District, Jak."

Said blonde sighed. _Not this again_. First Jinx, now Daxter – Jak couldn't take both of their commentaries on his romantic life. Unable to concentrate and getting nowhere in the poker game, he slapped his cards onto the table and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I fold."

"Touchy," the pyromaniac quipped. "Not gettin' enough?"

"I didn't mean it like that."

"_Sure_ ya didn't."

"Been a long day for ya, buddy?" the Ottsel enquired, patting his best friend on the shoulder. The blonde-green male's eyes darted over to Daxter's glove and noticed something square and white poking out of it. At high speed, Jak snatched the object and gazed at it, keeping grabbing paws at bay.

It was an ace.

"You _were_ cheating!" the blue-eyed human snapped, glowering. Torn and Jinx grumbled and threw down their cards. No wonder their luck had been bad.

"You wouldn't dare cheat with Pecker around," Torn retorted. "Next time, we're getting him in and your ass is going to the cleaners."

Daxter shrank in size, as everyone took back their stolen money. In a way, however, Jak was relieved things had ended that way. His optics checked the clock and he realised it wasn't far off midnight. Standing up and tugging his leather jacket from the back of the chair, he slung it on and pocketed his meagre winnings.

"Where you off to, sport?" Jinx asked, casually striking a match and lighting up a fresh cigar.

"Home," the eighteen year old said simply.

"Oh, _really_?" The older blonde raised an eyebrow.

"What? It's getting late." Jak attempted to make his expression appear oblivious to the hidden meaning behind that query, but failed.

Fortunately, Jinx dropped it. "Try 'n' get Tarry to come with ya next time. It'll make things more interestin'."

"Hell no! Not after last time!" Torn interjected, knowing the pyrotechnician's mind too well. _Last time_ had involved the pretence of a straightforward game of poker, and most of the girls had agreed to join in. Then Jinx had revealed it was, in fact, _strip_ poker. He ran for his life, after that, frightened by the wrath of half a dozen women. What worried the ex-Krimzon Guard was that Taryn had not heard about that particular session, which meant she would naively play. Jak hoped she would say yes to a _proper_ game; her humour was perfect for deflecting the pyromaniac.

"See ya!" Daxter waved frantically. Torn gave a farewell nod, then concentrated on the game again. Jak left the place and ambled towards the Sand Shark. Starting the engine, the vehicle shot off, leaving a little plume of exhaust behind it.

When he returned home, he could head up the basement and finish an intricate gadget he was halfway through making, without the Ottsel's interference, for once. Then the blonde recalled that Taryn was still at home. Would she be a distraction, too?

* * *

The roar of an engine and opening of the garage door startled the blue-haired teen awake. Rearranging her mind to make sense of the situation, she quickly realised Jak had returned. She swung the wheelie chair around, facing the garage door and awaiting the surprise he would surely wear on his face – hopefully pleased with her efforts.

The Sand Shark pulled into the garage and the blonde male clambered out of the vehicle. At the sight of Taryn waiting for him, his eyebrows rose in surprise. "What are you doing here? How did you get in?"

She appeared bewildered by his insistence. "The basement door was unlocked, and…" Was he angry with her? "Am I not allowed here? Because I can just go back upstairs-"

"No," he interrupted, his expression still puzzled. "You're allowed in here. I'm just surprised to see you. I've had a long day." He let out a chuckle. "Thought you'd still be fast asleep. You looked so tired this morning."

For a split second, she wondered if he'd watched her sleep, but a dim memory made her realise that she had passed Jak on the way in and given him a sleepy "good morning", before hitting the hay. She sniggered at the memory. "I woke up at nine. Nobody was around." She shrugged. "So…what plans did you have for the rest of the night?"

Looking at the green-eyed girl who stood before him, Jak realised he wasn't going to be able to concentrate on any work tonight. He scratched the gadget off his mental checklist and moved it to tomorrow. "Nothing, really." Turning his attention away from her, he remembered the bags in the passenger seat and trotted off to get them.

Out of curiosity, she followed and watched his movements. "What have you got there?"

"Food. Hungry?"

As if answering the question, Taryn's stomach rumbled. She placed a hand on it and looked a tad apologetic. "Heh. I suppose I am."

She assisted him with carrying the bags upstairs, to the kitchen/lounge; much to Jak's astonishment, the room was clean and tidy, with everything sensibly placed.

"You did all this?" he enquired. When he looked at her, she smiled and he could tell that it was what had occupied her evening. "It was nice of you. Thanks." 'Nice' didn't seem a good enough word, but anything else might have been inappropriate.

"I, uh, did it as thanks," she admitted.

"You don't owe me anything."

"Then think of it as gift, Mr. Ungrateful." She poked her tongue out.

Responding with a shake of the head, he placed the bags down onto the counter and pulled out several containers of food. She grabbed a couple of plates, knives and forks and together they arranged who was eating what. The pair carried it to the living room and planted themselves on the sofa. He looked around for a moment, before locating the television remote behind him on a side table and turning the set on.

Observing where Jak had found the remote, she said, "I was looking for that. It was in the laundry basket."

Even he appeared bewildered by that statement. "I didn't put it there," he quickly excused himself, but realised that sounded very guilty. "Why were you looking in the laundry basket, anyway?"

"I was tidying for you. The remote I found in the couch didn't belong to the TV. I also found washing-up liquid next to the cereal. It wasn't a treasure hunt that got out of hand, was it?"

"No. I'm not a little kid, anymore."

"Oh, yes, you are," she joshed.

He rolled his eyes, but his tenor turned serious. "I've been teased _all_ night. I expected it from Dax and Jinx, but not from you."

Her face turned mock-ashamed, which made him laugh. She swirled the food around her fork, but still didn't take a bite; it was too hot. Noticing how quiet it was in the house and aware Daxter had not accompanied the blonde home, she wondered what the former was up to tonight. "Where's Fuzzball?"

"He's with Tess tonight, so it's just us," Jak explained. Lifting a forkful of food towards his mouth, he saw Taryn's expression out of the corner of his eye. She appeared very mischievous, but he couldn't work out what about. Putting his cutlery down, he looked directly at the blue-haired adolescent. "What's funny?"

"There was a large, weird shapeless thing in the basement, covered by tarpaulin. It was really hard to resist peeking."

"_Taryn_…tell me you didn't."

"Calm down; I left it alone. Just…please tell me it's not a breakfast machine for Daxter. It's the kind of thing I'd imagine he'd bribe you to make."

"What? No." Jak had a mental image of using such an invention to make breakfast, and all the things that could possibly go wrong. The Ottsel, of course, would _adore_ it – that, and not even considering one in the first place, were precisely why the blonde had not gone there. His cerulean irises then lit up in surprise, as he registered her other remark. "What do you mean, 'bribe'?"

"The loudmouth gave you a gun mod, in exchange for letting him ride on your shoulder."

"Oh, that. It was worth it."

"Heh. Daxter was right."

"Huh? About what?"

"You're a big kid."

"He said that?" His eyes narrowed slightly and she realised she had managed to get Orange Lightning in trouble – not that the latter didn't deserve it. Agreeing with the Ottsel, however, might not have been the best course of action. Instead of replying, Taryn focused on the television screen – the programme was a news story on the Mar Memorial Stadium's reopening – and she immediately regretted doing so. A part of her felt uneasy about the races being restarted, but she pushed it aside. There was no need to think about that now.

Sadly, Jak was oblivious to her disquiet. "Have you raced in the Stadium?"

"Yeah, but it's been a while," she replied, forcing herself to relax against the sofa cushion a little more. "I'm out of practice…don't know if I'd be able to race like I used to."

"I'm sure Keira would let you do practice runs on the track."

"Yeah, I know." Knowing he was trying to be helpful made Taryn unsure whether to explain herself or not. _Just stop thinking about it!_ her mind screamed. Eager to change the subject, she turned her head to face Jak, and saw he was leaning against the sofa, eyes closed. Biting her lip, she dared to lean forward and placed her hand on his thigh. At the mere contact, he simultaneously jumped and his eyes snapped open, confusion painted on his face.

It took a moment for her to register that she was still holding his leg; she quickly snatched her hand back and turned back to her unfinished food. "You were falling asleep," she said quickly.

"Oh, was I? Guess I should get some shut-eye." He rubbed both eyes with a thumb and forefinger, then straightened up.

"Look, I…" she began, unsure what to say next. "…it was nice to talk."

"Uh, yeah." Jak swallowed, feeling a tad uncomfortable about the sentiment and decided to distract himself with collecting dishes. Taryn, however, was having none of that; she playfully batted his hands away and did it instead. Left with nothing else to do, he stood up and stretched, which pulled his white t-shirt up a little and revealed a sliver of tanned stomach. The blue bombshell watched from the corner of her eye, but had to force herself to look away after a few of seconds – the last thing she wanted was him suspicious about her feelings for him – and went about putting the dishes and cutlery in the sink and empty boxes in the bin. With her back to him, he wouldn't be able to observe the dark pink cascading across her cheeks or silent berating she was currently giving herself for reacting that way. _Don't go there_. If she repeated that mantra enough times, it might force the foolish, hormonal thoughts out of her psyche.

Oblivious – or, at least, _acting_ that way – Jak mentally shrugged at her behaviour, considered it a "woman thing", and trundled upstairs, calling "goodnight, Taryn" on the way up.

Daydreaming, her response was momentarily delayed. "Goodnight, Jak."

Hearing him reach the top of the stairs and the closing of his bedroom door, Taryn let out the breath she was holding and hung her head. A low groan left her vocal chords and she staggered back to the sofa, exhaustedly launching herself onto it. Green optics studied the television screen and, with a scowl, her thumb hit a button and changed the channel.

So much for not thinking about things she didn't want to…


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** I put Vin in here, because I love him! It always made me sad that he died at the end of _Jak II_. :(

* * *

**~ Four ~**

Jak could have _sworn_ he'd placed the Jet-Board in his basement – always next to his desk – but, for some reason, it _wasn't_ there, and he couldn't remember lending it to anyone. Of course, such a thing would occur on a day he specifically needed it for a mission. After a morning talk with Torn at the Freedom League headquarters, the blonde had, in his typical, heroic style, accepted the assignment and returned home, to get the necessary equipment – he didn't carry it around everywhere with him, after all.

So, now that the device was nowhere to be found, Jak found himself stuck. He had the laborious effort of explaining to the ex-Commander why the mission could not be done, as well as the somehow _more_ laborious trudge around Haven City, trying to find the damn Jet-Board.

At least the eighteen year old had a fairly good clue who had 'borrowed' it.

* * *

"It's sure nice of you to do this," Vin's voice echoed within the Power Station. "I, uh, don't get much company in here."

"You're welcome," Taryn responded, kneeling down and unscrewing the bolts that fixed a metal plate to one of the consoles. Once it was free, she began fiddling with the wires, disconnecting some and tugging out an old energy pack. The new one sat in a box next to her. She unpacked it and fitted it snugly inside. All the while, the disembodied geek chatted to her – mostly about components, wires and grids, but it was talk, all the same.

"It's been too long time since I saw you last," she smiled. _Should have seen you sooner_, she guiltily thought. After everything he had done for she, Tess and Jinx over the years, it was a disappointment that the blue-haired teen had not made a trip sooner – not since Vin's death. She was continuing to deal with the shock that he still existed in some form, and had worried for ages that it might be too strange to talk to his digital self, but, upon meeting him again, the pair was as amicable as ever.

"How are Tess and Jinx?" he enquired.

"Jinx is his same, sarcastic self. He doesn't actually say when anything's wrong, but I can tell. He's just not the type to talk about feelings. Typical male," she grinned. "And Tess is dealing with being an Ottsel really well. She's got Daxter to support her, I suppose. They're always lovey-dovey whenever I see them."

Vin looked sideways at her, which was extremely distracting. After a questioning glance from the young woman, he explained himself. "You're envious."

Her face glowed lobster pink. "I am not!"

Having known her since she was small, he had become accustomed to her behaviour and was well aware of when he had hit the nail on the head. Whenever she became very embarrassed, her cheeks turned lobster pink and she would shrink into herself. The hologram grinned at her, causing a pout to form on her lips.

"Okay, I won't tease you anymore," he said. Slowly, her countenance returned to a neutral state and she returned to her work. He watched her focusing on the wires of the console with incredible ease, and fought a smile creeping onto his face. _She really is like me_, he thought, yet wasn't quite brave enough to voice it.

The adolescent hurriedly changed the subject. "When I come here next, I'll bring Tess and Jinx with me," she promised.

"Thanks, Taryn," Vin said.

Her lips tugged upwards, into a smile. He was one of the few friends that actually called her by her proper name, and, for that, he earnt her undying respect…except when he embarrassed her, of course, but she always thought of ways to get her revenge. At some point, she would find some way of wreaking vengeance for his comments about her envy towards Tess and Daxter. Past threats of refusing to do maintenance work for Vin had always failed, because Taryn always felt guilty about not helping him and could never say 'no' to the man.

She was about to speak, again, when a loud, energetic tenor bounced off the walls and made the pair cringe.

"Hey, there, Gorgeous!" Daxter was charging into the room, beaming…which surely meant trouble. He had a little grey object in his hands, which Taryn recognised to be Jak's Jet-Board. Alarm bells rang in her head. _Uh-oh…what does he want to do with that?_

"What are you doing here?" she enquired, raising a blue eyebrow at the Ottsel. He raised the retracted device up to her, almost victoriously, as if he'd acquired it through skill or luck…almost like _he'd stolen it_. She had an inkling that was the case. Whatever he wanted, she had no interest in it.

He shrugged. "What, I can't just come and say hello?"

"Suspicious, much?" she remarked. "What do you want?"

"You got some free time, right?"

"I'll be done in ten minutes. Why?"

"How about we get down to the Jet-Board course and have a little play around?"

"You still sound suspicious…" she commented. "Did Jak let you borrow it?"

"Yeah. He said it'd be _fine_!" Daxter insisted.

"Really?" Her green optics squinted, not entirely convinced.

"_Suuuuure_. I asked."

Against better judgement – it was definite that there was something wrong with Daxter's plan – Taryn was enticed by the idea of racing around on the Jet-Board. Precursors knew why, but she nodded, her mischievous side kicking in. "Alright."

* * *

As expected, Tess was at the bar of _The Naughty Ottsel_, exuberantly relaying local gossip and her love's latest adventures. The blue-eyed hero entered, unsure how to respond to such tales, but decided it was better to just not input anything. He approached the bar, prepared for the stupid things Daxter was probably getting up to. With _Jak's_ Jet-Board. The female Ottsel was always the best person to ask for Orange Lightning's whereabouts, and now was no different.

"Oh, he went to the Power Room about an hour ago. To see Taryn," she elucidated.

_Taryn? Why does he want to see Taryn?_ Jak wondered. "Was Dax carrying anything?"

"Not that I saw…but we both know what he's like."

_Tell me about it_, the blonde grumbled to himself.

As if to answer his next question, before he'd even asked, Tess added, "Tarry's fiddling with the consoles, to improve Vin's programming. She's been there practically all morning, so should finish soon."

"Thanks." He headed out the door, practically at a run.

Now there was a very good idea of what had occurred. Daxter had taken the Jet-Board and tried to convince Taryn to go on it; perhaps succeeded. So, it was to the Power Station, where Vin would hopefully not talk Jak's ear off _too_ much, and reveal wherever Daxter and Taryn had taken the Jet-Board. If all went well, maybe Torn's assignment could be completed, after all.

* * *

Unfortunately, Jak _did_ manage to get an earful of the holographic geek's techno-babble, and it far outdid _War &amp; Peace_. Fortunately, the eighteen year old had managed to build up a resilience to it over the years, so he no longer fell asleep.

"Where did they go? It's important," he interrupted, unable to stand any more.

"The Jet-Board course in the Stadium," Vin said simply. "They should still be there."

"Good." The blonde rushed for the exit, but the older male's voice caused the former to come to a stop.

"Hey, uh, Jak?"

"What is it?"

"When you find them…don't give Taryn too much of a hard time, okay?"

"Don't worry; she's not the one in trouble." _It's the little orange thing I'm going to kill._ Jak wisely did not voice that, proceeding out of the Power Station pronto.

* * *

Traversing the Stadium and quickly making his way down to the Jet-Board course, the young male reached the enormous room, with its half-pipes, rails and hoops. Cerulean optics immediately narrowed. There the pair was, riding along on _Jak's_ Jet-Board, as if without a care in the world.

"Found you."

Hearing such a recognisable voice, the duo circled round. Daxter knew his time was up. Taryn's eyes widened, as she saw the expression on Jak's face, and felt unsure if he was going to kill her, but was not partial to finding out. The Ottsel shrank behind her leg, in a futile effort to hide, his fur giving his position away. After manoeuvring herself, she came to a stop before the blonde male.

Daxter's first instinct was to flee. Unfortunately, trying to outrun a man capable of channelling Light Eco, therefore slowing down time, did not favour the Ottsel. Jak's hand reached out, and Orange Lightning panicked.

"Not the tail! Not the _taiiiiiiil_!" the latter cried out in horror. Sadly, that was precisely how he was caught.

"Whoa there, Dax! You're going _nowhere_." The blonde dangled his best friend by the tail, several feet from the ground. Not one to admit defeat, the Ottsel attempted to run away, albeit upside-down, which was, as expected, an utter failure. Ignoring that, Jak turned to Taryn, the frown still on his face.

The cogs had already turned in her head and it confirmed that she had been roped into mischief. She slapped both hands to her head and moaned. "I _saw_ it coming. Why didn't I _listen_?"

"Taryn?" the human male asked. She looked up, a sheepish expression on her face, and swallowed.

"Look, I was working and Daxter suggested I take a break. He showed me the Jet-Board and said _you_ said it was okay for me to have a go," she elucidated, still nervous, but the blonde didn't really seem angry.

"What made you trust Daxter? He pulls this stuff all the time," he said, almost laughing, shaking said Ottsel and earning a "hey" in response.

"Yeah, I know," she sighed. "It's my fault."

"Yes, it is," Daxter determinedly agreed. "_She's_ the one who should be punished here."

Jak rolled his eyes. "You can use the Jet-Board any time you like. Just…let me know when, okay? 'Cause I don't wanna end up needing it and find out it's not there." He scowled at his best friend. "The way I did today."

"Oh. Okay," she smiled, relieved.

"Can I use it, too?" Orange Lightning asked.

"No."

"WHAT? That's not fair! And yer not gonna _punish_ her? After what she _did_? _Jaaaaak_! You need to _punish_ her!" Overcome with impish intent, Daxter leant as close as possible in his current position, and, in a low voice, spoke words that he knew would embarrass the one holding him by the tail. "Give her a good spank."

Said result was achieved. The blonde's face coloured and he glared, sure they were destined to be enemies in their next lives. "_Shut up_," Jak said, through gritted teeth. He was afraid Taryn would hear the bigmouth. Then how would things be explained? Jak poked Daxter in the chest. "Don't mess things up, got it?"

The Ottsel squinted and folded his arms, prepared for a challenge. "_Or _what?"

Realisation struck the hero's face; he had a problem on his hands. "Okay, okay…what's the cost to keep your mouth shut?"

"Hmm…" Teasing, Daxter stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I'll keep quiet _if_ you move this snail-pace relationship with Taryn into a higher gear."

The blonde scowled, but what was the alternative? "Deal." He begrudgingly dropped Daxter on the floor. The latter landed in a heap.

The blue-haired teen had watched the two males whispering to one another, but she merely shrugged, instead focusing on the mechanics of the Jet-Board. Pausing for a moment, she shook her head and raised her voice. "I still don't understand how I'm _not_ in trouble."

"Don't knock it! Jak's not usually that generous," Daxter beamed, aware of getting his friend into yet more hot water. She raised an eyebrow and handed the device back to the blue-eyed human, then began heading towards the exit. As if a form of apology, the Ottsel hopped onto Jak's shoulder and the pair tailed the female, giving her a little space, so the boys could talk.

"I'm warning you," the blonde muttered, in a menacing tone.

"I'm not _meddling_," Daxter whispered his insistence. "I'm _helping_."

"Well, help me by _not_ helping me."

"You want me to…_what_? That doesn't make _sense_!"

Jak wanted to tear his hair out. Feeling Dark Eco bubbling in his veins, he took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "What I'm saying _is_ that I need to do it myself."

"So _do_ it. She's right in front of us. What better timing? I can run ahead, if it'll help," Orange Lightning retorted, but his friend's expression was a tad apprehensive. The former sighed.

Taryn turned on her heel, facing the two, and gave a wave. "Look, I've got some stuff to do. I'll, uh, catch you later." She moved quickly, and Jak's hesitation meant that it was too late for him to chase after her. So he simply watching her retreating back.

"See? You blew it," Daxter remarked. "What the heck are ya waitin' for, anyway?"

The blonde gave no reply. He honestly didn't know.

* * *

The Gun Course was always an appealing place to hang out. There weren't actually many people that tried out for it – the odd mercenary, civilian and a few regular Freedom League soldiers, who all brazenly flirted with whatever woman was there at the time – so it meant the green-eyed girl could generally work in peace.

Now, however, it was a little more stressful than usual. Working on the complexities of a new gun she and Tess had collaborated on was beginning to hurt the former's head.

"I really don't know how this is going to work…" Taryn grumbled, slumping in her seat and setting various pieces down.

"That's because you're thinking of the _entire workings_ of the gun," the smaller female retorted. "Focus on just your bit. That's what I'm doing." It evidently worked for her, since she was steaming ahead with the frame. A small smirk spread across her lips, as if she already knew the answer to the question she was about to ask. "You never told me who this is for."

"Me."

"Nuh-uh. I know you. You wouldn't be interested in this kind of gun. So…?"

"None of your business, Tess."

"Ooh, I think I can guess!"

Taryn let out a cry of exasperation. "Can we please not do this? The guessing game? It's painful."

"Jinx isn't here, so it won't be painful this time," Tess corrected. "So, let me see if I can work it out…who could possibly want a heavy-duty, Light Eco-absorbing grenade launcher?"

"You're as bad as Daxter," the blue-haired teen scowled, trying to work again…without success. She didn't want to play this silly game. The last one had resulted in her going into a raging fury and threatening Jinx and Tess within an inch of their lives. Taryn's cheeks flushed pink, as she realised the impending doom of the Ottsel successfully guessing the gun's intended recipient.

"You are _so_ easy to read!" Tess chortled. "I didn't know you were close enough to give each other presents."

_Damn it_. "Alright, you got me. It's for Jak."

"That's _so_ sweet of you."

"I feel guilty about not paying rent. That's all. Can we move on, now?"

"Seems a lot of effort-"

Taryn's eyes actually flashed with anger. "Stop it, okay? And don't tell anyone. Not even your furball lover boy."

Tess raised her palms in surrender. "Sure, sure. I promise." Her eyes lit up, and she stretched out a paw, nudging Taryn. "Talk of the Devil."

The latter's mind distracted, the Ottsel's words didn't initially sink in.

"Hey, Taryn. Tess," Jak smiled. Said female froze, then turned around and faced the blonde. Her optics widened and a grin slowly crept along her face. Approaching her side, he leant down and stared at the materials in her hand. "What are you making?"

"I'm helping Tess with a gun," she responded.

"Does she really need help with that?" he cheekily enquired.

"I'm sitting right here, you two." The Ottsel mock-pouted, but it soon fizzled into a grin. "So, what brings you down here?"

"I finished my mission, so Torn's happy, and now I'm free for the day."

"Can't get enough of me, huh?" the green-eyed teen teased. He rolled his eyes at her, then took a seat where she was working, and silently watched. It was a tad distracting to begin with, but she soon became used to his inquisitive presence. "I saw Vin earlier. I was upgrading some of the equipment for him. He seems like he's doing better, since things have become peaceful."

"I didn't know you were so close," he remarked.

"Vin looked after me a lot when I was younger. He used to keep an eye on me in the Power Room. I soon started picking up on electronics and eventually helped him maintain the place…not that he really needed it. I think he must have just liked my company."

"So…there was nobody else?"

"Not really. I'm an orphan," she replied, somewhat sombrely. "It's surprising the amount of adults who don't like looking after a lost little girl."

"Well, you found Jinx and me in the streets and dragged us along to see Vin, too," Tess piped in. "Vin found it impossible to say 'no' to your big green eyes and blue pigtails."

"Blue pigtails?" Jak smirked. Taryn looked embarrassed, for a third time that day.

"Yes…laugh it off, Blondie," she sighed.

"Me and Jinx used to tease her _all the time_ when she was younger," the Ottsel giggled.

"Don't remind me," Taryn groaned, slapping a palm to her face. "The stuff we used to get up to back then…"

"You know, I still have that picture of us that Vin took," Tess grinned. The blue-haired teen's face fell.

"I'd like to see that," Jak remarked.

"No, you wouldn't," Taryn cut in. He simply smiled at her continued mortification.

"I _have_ given you a place to stay, so you owe me," he said.

She squinted at his mischievous way of winning the argument, and fought to keep herself from sulking, instead deciding to glare. "Low blow. Alright, you can see it sometime."

The blonde male thought for a minute, then spoke in a gentle, but slightly uncertain, manner. "So…being an orphan…do you…remember anything about your parents?"

"Nothing about my mother. All I remember about my father is that he had blue hair. I doubt he's still alive, but it would be nice to find him again someday."

"If you ever begin a search, let me know. I can help you look."

"Oh, um, thanks, Jak," she replied a little awkwardly. The topic was becoming too much to discuss, so she placed him in the hot seat. "Now it's your turn."

"My turn?" he asked, wearing a blank expression.

"Don't play dumb. I barely know anything about you," she retorted.

Jak, for the briefest of moments, was stumped. He thought back through his eighteen years, choosing to explain briefly about how he'd met Daxter, when they (as well as Samos and Keira) had saved the world from Gol and Maia, then how the Rift Rider had brought the quartet through time and they'd landed in Haven City; he described the fight against the Baron and Kor, and how good people had been lost to the rebel's cause. Jak said very little on his adventures in the Wasteland and Spargus; Taryn had little understanding of the reason, and he was reluctant to tell her about his connection to Damas.

Jak turned his commentary towards the Old World, describing the pale sands of Sentinel Beach – how he would dash pebbles across the waters with Daxter, where they would challenge one another. The red-head always insisted on winning, but Jak would triumph every time. The Ottsel would also insist he knew best about how to throw pebbles across the water and refused to listen to his friend's suggestions. One day, Jak caught Daxter copying the blonde's technique, and the latter's cheeks turned the colour of his hair.

Tess silently listened, whilst fixing weapon parts together, occasionally smiling – particularly whenever her love was mentioned.

When Jak stopped talking, Taryn noticed that most of the things he had said hadn't really described his past at all, and that she had actually learnt very little about him. But she thought better than to pry; when anyone asked too much about his past or feelings, he tended to turn quiet and thoughtful.

Deciding she had heard plenty about the Old World, she mentioned the Kid and his pet Crocadog.

"Then he left, and I never saw him again," she explained. "That Crocadog was always placid with me. We came to some kind of agreement that I'd feed him, but only if he never growled or tried to bite me."

The blonde chuckled. "You sound fond of him."

"Well, I do love Crocadogs." She shrugged. "The Kid was adorable, too. I'd look after him, sometimes, when the Shadow had a lot on his plate."

His optics lit up in surprise. "You did? I didn't know that."

"Yeah. I'd chase him around the Hideout or Power Station – he had the funniest little laugh. We'd play tricks occasionally, until Vin scowled at us and called us a nuisance. One day, the Crocadog started chewing on some electrical cables, and got one heck of a shock! Smoke even started coming off him. Vin was so angry…he had to reboot the system." She started laughing uncontrollably at the recollection.

Tess giggled and nodded. "I remember that day. You brought the Crocadog over for us to see. He was all black and everything."

"He looked bewildered, for the most part…until he realised Jinx was taking the piss. Bit into his leg," the green-eyed female snickered.

It was an amusing situation to observe. Jak had never witnessed Taryn laughing in such a carefree way, and she'd certainly never talked about herself that much to anybody but close friends. Such fondness made him smirk, but it was the comment about the Kid that really had him amused…and comforted. That little boy had taken a liking to Taryn and she clearly still cared for him a great deal. Perhaps it was the connection of one orphan to another. If only she knew exactly who the Kid was…

Maybe Jak would tell her, one day.

* * *

**A/N:** There are comments and interaction in this chapter regarding friendship between Taryn and Vin, and some history, which is obviously all AU. I wanted to mention an idea I had, but wasn't sure if it would work out in this story. It regards Taryn not knowing who her parents are, but that she just remembers the hair colour of her father. I thought it would be interesting if Vin turned out to be Taryn's father (or at least a relative), which would explain why he's close to her. He obviously has never told her, for fear of the Baron using her as leverage. Does it sound interesting?


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** I wondered where to fit Ashelin into the story, and found a nice place for her. There's also not much Daxter, for once. It's very much a Jak and Taryn chapter.

* * *

**~ Five ~**

Soft light filtered through gaps in the blinds over the bedroom window, but it wasn't what woke Jak. Still exhausted from the previous evening, he leant up on his elbows and swept a hand over tousled locks.

What had prevented a wink of sleep was his brain continuously turning things over – when the J90 Air Racers would be ready for testing, how Spargus was progressing with Sig in charge, the change of gang leadership in Kras City – but there was one particular pressing subject that (or, rather, _who_) refused to vacate his mind.

Taryn.

Their relationship slowly but surely progressed over the weeks since she moved into his abode, yet it seemed his Ottsel friend was correct…for once. If the blonde hero didn't speed things up, he would never reach his goal. He still debated revealing to her his heritage or the identity of the Kid.

_Wouldn't these be things to tell her later?_ But just how much time would have to pass before it _was_ right?

The eighteen year old let out a heavy breath and flopped backwards onto his bed. Unless he dealt with these troubles, they wouldn't go away.

Resigning himself to insomnia, he slowly crept out and tottered over to his wardrobe, sliding its door across and rifling through various shirts, jackets and trousers. A couple of pairs of boots sat at the bottom, and the silver ring attached to brown straps that he commonly wore also hung in there.

He pulled out a white t-shirt, broken-white trousers and a leather jacket, then tossed them onto his unmade bed, and sat the pair of steel toe-capped boots next to it. He tugged off the clothes he currently wore and left them in a pile on the floor, then put on his clean outfit at a leisurely speed. From the top of his chest of drawers, he grabbed his trademark racing goggles, red scarf and utility belt, and left the room.

Trundling downstairs and wandering into the kitchen area, he found Daxter tossing cutlery into the sink with far too much enthusiasm. It was something of a shock to see the furball awake at this hour, and Jak rubbed his eyes to make more sense of the world around him.

Said orange male looked over his shoulder and his mouth broke into a wide grin. "Hey, Big Ears!" he cheerily called, which simply earnt a sigh, at both the volume of the voice and nickname.

The blonde male managed a muttered "hey", then strolled over to the cupboards to search for some cereal and a bowl to put it in. After a little hunt for a spoon (both males were incredibly grateful for Taryn's help with keeping the house organised), he made up his breakfast and leant against the counter, eagerly eating away.

Before he could even ask, Daxter cut into the silence. "Taryn's already gone."

Jak swallowed his mouthful, almost choking at the apparent psychic ability the Ottsel possessed – was that a Precursor thing? He knew they'd been friends since they were little, but it was occasionally still eerie to witness. "Where's she headed?"

"Off on some mission. With Tess and Jinx." At the hero's expression, Orange Lightning added, "Don't worry, he won't blow up Bloo. He likes her too much."

_Yeah, I figured that_, Jak inwardly muttered. Attempting to sound more nonchalant, he changed the subject. "How is she, by the way?"

"Who, Tess?" Daxter enquired.

The taller male sighed, knowing his friend was teasing. "No, _Taryn_. Try getting your mind off your girlfriend for a sec."

"Easier said than done. But, more to yer point, Taryn's _fine_, if a little quiet."

"Quiet?"

"Yeah. Looked like somethin' was on her mind." Daxter hopped off the counter and darted over to the couch, where he grabbed the remote and happily flopped onto the seat nearest the television. "I'm gonna catch up on some racin' news. Either that or watch early mornin' cartoons. How 'bout you?"

The blonde put his finished breakfast in the sink. With a shake of the head at his friend, he said, "I'm heading out."

"You leavin' me all on my lonesome, too?"

"If I see Tess, I'll tell her you're lonely and send her 'round."

"You're a true friend, Jak."

* * *

In the main briefing Freedom HQ, situated in the clean and bustling area of New Haven City, the Governess fought the scowl on her face, as she heard Taryn's latest request. Initially angry about the latter deviating from a new mission assignment, Ashelin patiently heard out the blue-haired teen.

"In governing a city, finding your parents doesn't really come under the category of 'urgent'," Praxis said, one hand splayed on her curvaceous hip. It wasn't that she especially liked talking straight to people, but the truth was more important in her position; she'd learnt that the hard way with her father.

"You're right; it's not," the seventeen year old agreed, relaxing in a chair she had moved to the central, circular console in the middle of the room. With both arms hanging over the back of the chair and her legs hanging apart, it appeared that she didn't have a care in the world; in fact, what she desired was, at present, deemed more important to her than anything else. Still, she knew that indignance and insistence weren't the way to motivate officials. With a shrug, she added, "However long it takes doesn't bother me; I'm just asking for you to do it when you can."

"Uh-huh," was all the twenty one year old replied, but her disposition had noticeably relaxed, her eyes no longer narrowed.

"So, now that we're done with that. What work did you have for me?"

"There's something at the Pumping Station. Seems the surveillance mast is acting up again. Could be the wildlife…could be something bigger. I want you to fix it for us."

"Us?" Taryn teased.

"Don't get cute." Ashelin crossed both arms over her chest.

"Wouldn't think of it."

"The League would appreciate it."

"I'm in, Ash. Don't you worry about it."

"Don't call me that. It's _Ashelin_."

"Alright, _Ashelin_," the blue-haired female smirked, realising exactly why the red-head was a perfect fit for Torn. Praxis would have argued further, but the exit doors parted and none other than Jak casually sauntered through. The two women in the room looked towards him.

"It's been a while," he said, more to the red-head. "How are things around here?"

"Same old, same old," she remarked. Tilting her head in the direction of the seated individual, the former added, "I'm sending _her_ to the Pumping Station."

"The Pumping Station? What's up?" the blonde enquired.

"Surveillance tower's kaput again," Taryn retorted, getting to her feet and heading over to gather her equipment. "I'm going to repair it."

He cleared his throat, before speaking. "I, uh, can keep an eye on you."

The younger female shrugged. "You're welcome to come along, although I doubt it'll be a party."

"Good idea," Ashelin agreed. "We don't exactly know what's caused the trouble, what's out there. Be careful."

"Always," the younger female retorted.

* * *

The pair soon arrived at the Pumping Station gate and stood before it, awaiting its opening. The gears slowly turned; eventually, the metal parted to allow them access beyond the security walls. Passing through and stepping onto the sand, they paused to admire their surroundings. For Jak, little had altered in almost two years, the flora overgrown and a distinct lack of Metal Heads. Other species of fauna had replaced the latter. It was a rare pleasure to breathe some fresh air and escape the city for a while.

"This is our first time, isn't it?" Taryn suddenly remarked, shorting out the blonde's train of thought. Caught off guard, he struggled to remain composed. With a raised eyebrow and a smirk, she chuckled. "It's the first time we've _worked_ together."

"Oh. Yeah," he replied, trying to supress the slight quiver that had crept into his voice. Perhaps the female's words had been unintentional, but who could be sure? He desperately changed the subject to something he could more easily handle. "Man, it's been a while since I was last here."

"Ditto. I came here a few times to sabotage the Metal Bugs."

"That's where you met Dax, right?"

"Yep. Little squirt decided to flirt with me from the get-go. Has he always been like that?"

"Pretty much."

"Thank the Precursors for Tess; that's all I can say."

"So, he's not your type?" the eighteen year old teased.

"I'm not into the orange-furred, rodent thing," the blue-haired femme said drily.

Although maybe unwise to enquire, he allowed several words to escape his mouth. "What is your type?"

She scowled. "Don't you start. I get enough teasing from Whiskers."

"Ouch. I think I touched a nerve."

"This is the sole reason I work alone."

The joshing would have continued, were it not for the arrival of curious, rogue wildlife – a quartet of glubs, intent on greeting the visitors. At lightning speed, the Morph Gun appeared in Jak's hands, already set to the Blaster mod. A glowing, golden shot flew from the barrel and struck one creature square in the head. However, before the chance rose to eliminate another, Taryn's dual-barrelled pistol took care of the problem.

"You're going to have to be quicker than that," she grinned.

If Daxter accompanied them, he would have retorted with at least one of his smart-alec jokes, which typically resulted in his blonde friend threatening to dangle the former like a piñata for the wildlife. Without the Ottsel around, Jak flashed Taryn a competitive scan.

They took care of several more glubs, sharing killing the last two, before moving along the multitude of platforms and finally reaching the surveillance tower. Both craned their necks upwards, barely able to see its peak.

"Well, here we are," she muttered.

"You first," he replied.

"Very funny." She removed a pair of harpoon attachments from her utility belt and fixed one to her handgun. She tossed the second at the hero, which he deftly caught in one hand. "It should be compatible with your Morph Gun."

He did as she suggested and found that she was correct. The duo pointed their guns upwards and fired in unison, then were dragged to the top of the mast. Reaching the zenith, they unhooked their harpoons and Taryn returned them to her utility belt, as well as tucking her pistol into its back holster. She then sauntered towards the console dead ahead, with Jak staying close by and keeping an eye out for more inquisitive animals.

"Huh," the seventeen year old muttered to herself.

"What's 'huh'?" he asked.

"Looks like something's…_tampered_ with this console. Doesn't look like fauna – it's too neat…coordinated."

He heard the inflection in her words. "What do you think did it?"

"Well…take a look for yourself," she said, waving a hand towards the console. He approached and studied the damaged area. It only confirmed her words. Something more intelligent than glubs and znorkle tooths had ripped into the console. Stretching out his hand, the blonde dared to touch the damaged area, and jumped at the static shock he received.

"What is it?" Taryn asked.

"There's a Dark Eco…presence." _Familiar_, but he couldn't put his finger on it. _Maybe…_ But it couldn't be what he was thinking. After the Dark Makers' defeat, the Metal Heads had been pushed out of the city.

"Is it alright for me to touch?"

"It's faint, but I wouldn't try it. Maybe…maybe I can drain the residual energy, so it's safe for you to fix."

Her eyes widened a little. "Are you going to be alright doing that?"

It was a relief to be safe from harm – The Light in his system would neutralise whatever Dark Eco he absorbed. "I'll be fine."

She stared at him for one more beat. Her expression turned from anxious to focused and she dropped her bag onto the ground, pulled back the zip, then began removing its contents. He placed his hand on the console and drained the dangerous energy.

Once it was harmless, he stepped back and allowed her to repair the console. She worked quickly and efficiently.

Then Jak abruptly froze. Rapid footsteps echoed from nearby. Turning his head to glance at the source, he recognised another group of advancing fauna heading their way. Once again, he aimed his Blaster. "We've got company."

The red-clad female grumbled under her breath. "Damn."

Speeding up, the mast was soon back online, with a new shield activated around the controls, to keep it from further sabotage – at least, she hoped. Her work complete, she packed her things away and hauled the equipment onto her back, then joined the firefight.

Once the first wave was dealt with, the pair darted as fast as their legs could carry them, back towards the gate. Nearby cries, bestial yet strangely alien, rang through the air, which only served to make the two humans increase their speed.

Those calls could only have come from one animal – a Metal Head. The blonde's hunch had been on target. He _knew_ the damage to the surveillance tower had been caused by something involved with Dark Eco, but, until now, wasn't sure what. It was strange, but not impossible. Hora Quan stragglers remained.

The gate was in view, but that didn't mean the pair could relax just yet. The black, armoured beasts charged in a large swathe. If Jak and Taryn kept their pace, they would make it out of the danger just in time.

When they reached the gate, a new problem unfolded – waiting for it to open, before the Metal Heads devoured them. Heart pounding, a sensation he hadn't felt for some time, the eighteen year old tugged out his Morph Gun and switched it to the Peacemaker. His fingers held down the trigger and he aimed. Timing was everything.

As the creatures came close enough, he released his grip, letting loose a powerful burst that landed directly in the middle of the pack. Most were immediately obliterated; several scattered, but were caught in the electrical current of the shot, and collapsed onto the sand, leaking violet blood.

Pausing to savour his victory, Jak was suddenly wrenched through the exit and to safety. The gate clanked and sealed that chaos behind them. Finally back in New Haven City, Taryn bent over and gripped her knees, fighting for breath. The blonde planted his hand on her shoulder, and she looked directly into his blue optics.

"Are you okay?" he enquired, which sounded surprisingly sincere to her ears. As kind as it was, she wanted to squirm and wriggle away from his touch, to pull her gaze away from his. It did something to her sense, her body…and she realised she didn't want to escape.

"I'm…fine. You?" Her voice emitted an involuntary husky quality. _Damn it_.

"Same here."

Having just escaped death, and with the strange, adrenaline-fuelled energy around them, the two simply couldn't keep straight faces, and collapsed into nervous laughter. When they eventually calmed down, she shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose with a thumb and index finger.

"It's been so long…I'd forgotten what that felt like," he admitted, although omitted anything about enjoying the recklessness and danger of the mission. She only nodded in agreement, not trusting herself to say anything else, and they casually retraced their steps to Freedom HQ.

* * *

The eighteen year old felt it necessary to not beat around the bush. Before the Governess even had chance to ask, he revealed what he and Taryn had discovered at the Pumping Station. "We ran into Metal Heads."

Ashelin's emerald optics widened in alarm; it was the last thought on her mind. "_Metal Heads_?" Gritting her teeth, her tenor developed a heavier, angrier growl, more befitting her former KG self. "What the Hell are _they_ still doing in this city?" With a frown, she eyed the central computer.

"We took care of a group of them, but there are probably more," Jak remarked.

"Well, the tower's back online, at least," the seventeen year old began, a tad apprehensive about how crazy her next sentence would sound…yet it needed to be said. "Seems like Metal Heads sabotaged the controls."

The red-head tilted her head back up to observe the trio, her expression darkening. "I'm just glad you're alive." She pulled credits from her top and tossed them to the duo. "Here's some extra, for going above and beyond. Now, if you excuse me, I'll have Torn arrange some payback."

Taryn raised a blue brow and remained at the older woman's side. "I suppose this is a bad time for you to…help me with…_you know_…so, just forget about it for now."

"No." Ashelin shook her head. "I'll make some time for you, and have Vin go through the city records. You'll get your answers."

"Thanks, Ash. For this…and the money, obviously." The seventeen year old flashed a grin, then turned on her heel to leave – and came face-to-face with Jak's questioning expression.

"City records?" he said quizzically.

Those cerulean orbs seemed to penetrate her mind, so she decided against lying. "I asked if Ash could find out anything about my parents."

"I…see. Is there anything I can do?"

"What? You mean, help look for them or something? 'Cause I think Vin will get through the archives faster."

"Well, I meant…you know what I meant."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks, Jak, but it's covered. Not that I don't appreciate your offer…"

The blonde's eyes softened and a soft smile lit up his face. Fresh adrenaline swam through her body. With that countenance and the need to help, she felt bad that he couldn't do anything, but relieved that he was readily at her side.

Like a true friend.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** It's great to write a little racing into the story. I always loved riding the Air Racers in _Jak II_. Missed them in _Jak 3_…although that has buggies instead! Also, I want to thank a couple of guest reviewers for making my day (since I can't PM my gratitude).

Jakfan: Your review made me laugh and I'm glad you love it (x3). XD

Guest: I'm so pleased you like the pairing! Seems like I'm the only one writing it, so I wasn't sure if anyone else found it interesting. As for Taryn's parents, the answer's coming sooner than she thinks… 8)

These reviews really inspire me to continue; thanks to you, I'll keep writing like a maniac!

I admit having little knowledge of car mechanics, so I haven't included much of that in this chapter. This took a lot of determination to finish. I wasn't sure how to end it, but I got rid of a lot of waffle, which explains why this chapter is a bit shorter than the others. Now, on with the story!

* * *

**~ Six ~**

A HellCat as the first sight of the day reminded the hero of memories he'd rather forget, but the particular vehicle hovering before him had been modified – crimson paintwork sprayed forest green, a larger primary cannon on the belly, which appeared more of a rail gun…not to mention that the driver was someone Jak considered the opposite of painful.

"Need a lift?" his blue-haired roommate called over the noise of the engine. With a nod, he accelerated towards the cruiser, which lowered to his level, and hopped onto its passenger side. Immediately, he noticed the seats were more padded than the standard model – he'd stolen and ridden in enough to notice the difference.

"Nice ride," he remarked, leaning back in the seat; it wasn't often he was a passenger in a car, usually riding or walking everywhere himself (or giving others free shoulder rides – _not mentioning any names_). It was quite nice to have Taryn as his chauffeuse.

Said female noticed his admiring gaze. "I'm glad it meets with your approval."

"Is this yours?"

"You know it. It wasn't cheap and I could've used the money for something else, but…well, if you ever ride with Jinx, you'll understand."

"Trust me, I do."

The HellCat pulled up into the higher flying zone, and sped off towards the Gardens. At Jak's prepared protest, she merely chuckled. "I already know where you're headed, since I'm wanted there, too. But I am intrigued. What surprises does Keira have in store?"

The eighteen year old knew, but he wasn't about to share that information with his friend. Hagai needed the Stadium tracks tested with the (finally) complete Air Racers, and who better to throw them around the track than the best and most reckless driver in the world? He couldn't wait to race again; the Wasteland was exciting and dangerous, but it was a different kettle of fish to NYFE. Perhaps the hoverbikes had something to do with the old days, when he would ride Keira's a-grav zoomer around Sandover Village, performing the odd job for the locals. It was how he discovered an easier way of herding yakows.

Taryn suddenly turned the corner at a greater speed than necessary, and the blonde gained a first-hand view of her driving skills. Her prior words about not racing for years and being out of practice came to mind, although something about her response that night had been a little _off_.

One way or another, he would see about getting her involved in the Championship, regardless of whatever thoughts held her back.

* * *

The HellCat pulled up by the Stadium entrance and floated down to the ground in a graceful way that belied its size and shape. Jak hopped out first, whilst Taryn cut the engine, then followed him inside.

Being only a fortnight from opening, the Stadium's aesthetics were far grander than the last time she was there, and she shivered with anticipation at the idea of seeing the finished J90s and admiring their inner workings.

Reaching the garage, the pair was met by an excited Keira.

"I'm glad you're both here," she beamed, and turned towards the blue-haired adolescent. "But I knew _you_ especially would want to see the finished product."

"Thanks," Taryn responded.

The three of them strolled out of the garage and down the entranceway, into a long, straight section that led to a pair of automatic doors that opened directly onto the track. A couple of Air Racers already sat proudly in the area.

The red-clad seventeen year old was always thrilled at the sight of those sleek hoverbikes, and now was no different. Roughly twelve feet long, they boasted an improved version of the old J87 engine. No matter how many times she inspected them, she couldn't help but be impressed by its speed, beauty, and, most importantly, mechanics. Hagai was some mechanical genius, alright.

Stepping close to the J90, Taryn reached up and ran an admiring hand along its chassis, the metal cool and smooth beneath her fingers. She paced in a circle around it, then paused at the rear to peek at the engine, although she knew its configuration by heart. "Beautiful. What does it run on?"

"The latest high-class compressor known to man."

"Wow…"

Watching and understanding about half of the discussion, the hero left the two to continue for some time; he was more interested in seeing them getting along, which made him smile. That the girls were fond of one another made things much easier.

"I think we're boring him," Taryn muttered, still loudly enough for the blonde to hear, making him sigh and shake his head.

Keira laughed, then averted her attention to the bikes once more. "Okay, I want you two to throw these babies around the track."

"Sure. I'm more than happy to do it," he immediately replied, but Taryn suddenly appeared a tad apprehensive.

"Whoa, wait just a second! _Two_?" she cried. _I came here to tinker…_

"Come on," the mechanic pleaded. "It'd be good for you to get back into racing."

The blue-haired teen felt burdened to say 'yes', but resisted making things easy for her friends – not to mention the uncertainty of taking a trip back down memory lane. The conversation with Jak was still fresh in her psyche; she recalled what she had said to him that night.

"_I'm out of practice…don't know if I'd be able to race like I used to."_

"_I'm sure Keira would let you do practice runs on the track."_

She shook her head at the expectant pair. _I'm not ready_. Their attempt to force her hand wouldn't speed up matters. Hagai's face fell, whilst the eighteen year old gave a quizzical look, but they kindly said no more on the subject.

"Can the Racers take my kind of driving?" he enquired, sauntering over to the vehicle and straddling the seat to get a feel for its controls. He started up the engine and revved several times, relishing its powerful growl, then pulled down his goggles.

With a shrug, Keira grinned. "The more reckless the driving, the more I'll know my handiwork can stand up to the track."

The gals backed away from the track and into the stands to watch and time the J90s. At the sound of the klaxon, Jak let rip and disappeared down the path, leaving Taryn to stare after him with a strange, wistful glimmer in her optics.

* * *

The Air Racers were all tested and ready for the big opening. Keira had left Taryn with the stopwatch, whilst the former continued other arrangements. The blue-haired adolescent approached the track and saw her roommate pulling up on his J90, wearing a victorious grin on his face. It was obvious just how much he missed it.

"Keira says you've beaten your old time," she called. Deciding it was good for his health to roast him about his racing skills, she added, "'Though I think you need more practice."

Jak's countenance morphed into something mock-alarmed, followed by a scowl when she flashed a charming smile and playfully tried to shove him off the hoverbike. It almost succeeded; he managed to put his foot out in time to steady the vehicle.

From nearby, the genius mechanic slowly approached, ready to let the pair know that she wanted the racers taken back, when she stopped short and stared at the duo. Both looked in their own little world, oblivious to their surroundings. The blonde's smile was like the kind he used to give before the time travel trip to Haven City a few years ago – and he was showing it to Taryn.

_He likes her. A lot._ It made sense why he was happier lately, more like his old self. It should have hurt her that he was more interested in the blue-haired teen, but it surprisingly didn't. What happened between Keira and Jak was another time, another place. She felt happy that he was moving past the pain and on with his life. She hadn't found anyone else yet, but it didn't matter, if he was smiling. _I want him to be happy_, she thought.

After a few minutes of observation, Hagai continued approaching and gave a wave. "Hey! Can you two get the Racers back into the garage for me?"

"Bossy," Taryn jokingly muttered.

The former raised an eyebrow. "What was that?"

"Nothing."

"She called you bossy," the eighteen year old cut in.

Keira mock-scowled. "Okay, just for that, you can't play with my new toys anymore."

The blue-haired female mock-pouted. "Maybe I don't want to play with them, anyway."

"You can't, either, Jak," the mechanic added, stabbing a finger at the hero.

"What? Why?" He sounded hurt.

"For laughing," she retorted, crossed both arms over her chest. After a minute of anguished looks from the two, she rolled her eyes. "Come on…"

Taryn and Jak finally did as they were told, and all three of them headed back to the Stadium garage.

* * *

"You know, all joking aside," Keira began, and Taryn immediately didn't like where the discussion headed. "You should enter and try to win."

Heart thudding against her chest and eyes growing a little wide, the latter forced herself into a more casual demeanour. "I'll think about it." She then offered a smile. "Now, if there's nothing else you need me for, I'm heading out for a walk for a while. Catch you both later."

"'Kay." The shorter female beamed.

Watching his roommate leaving, Jak was not as convinced by his roommate's act as she hoped. Something altered in her behaviour when the Championship was mentioned, but he just couldn't put his finger on why.

To put it simply, he was worried. He leant up from the drawers set against the wall and gave a quick goodbye to his ex-girlfriend, before also leaving the Stadium. He had to know exactly what ate at Taryn.

However, before he could even make it out of the garage, he was met by excitable Ottsels. To see the two together wasn't rare, but seeing them on foot – considering they borrowed friends as transport systems – was.

"Hiiiiii!" Tess called, waving exuberantly.

"How's it going?" added Daxter.

"The racers are ready for the big opening," the blonde said quickly, then moved onto a more important topic. "Taryn was here, too, timing me on the track…"

"Taryn on the _track_. Wow," the female rodent remarked, wearing a surprised expression. "I guess I'm glad she's back into it."

"What does that mean?" Jak enquired, but Tess appeared a tad reserved about explaining herself.

"Well, she tried out for the Championships a couple of years ago, before you did," she said. "To get an audience with the Baron, help the Underground…you know."

She said no more on the subject, leaving him bemused and none the wiser about Taryn's reluctance to race. It sounded serious…and bad.

"I'm dying to talk to Keira, so I'll see you later," Tess cut in, bounding off on all fours and at high speed into the garage.

The blonde glanced at the slightly perplexed (but ultimately distracted) Daxter, who simply gave up with a shrug and chased after his _Tessy-poo_. Following his friend's lead, Jak knew his blue-haired roommate had wandered too far ahead, so he decided to postpone the questionnaire and opted to make his way to _T__he Naughty Ottsel_ for a well-earnt drink.

* * *

Taryn parked her vehicle at the edge of the rebuilt Bazaar and stepped out. The area was practically empty; a calming influence on her mind. The blue of the sky gradually darkened, as the sun prepared to dip below the horizon, so stalls packed up and people – either by foot or Zoomer – headed home.

It was good to see trade had started up again; another improvement for Haven City. It flourished with the neighbouring cities (Spargus in particular) and that had allowed for more money to flow through Haven. In the Wasteland city, Sig had returned to his duties as King, following in the late Damas' footsteps. Jak had been supportive of it, and why not? They were good friends, after all.

She wondered about everyone's reactions to her leaving the Stadium without a proper explanation, but then considered that people worried too much. Yes, she had to get over the feeling of apprehension that rose every time she stepped onto the track, but it was almost exhilarating to get back into racing. Only…she couldn't help thinking about what had happened a couple of years ago. Still, she had to thank Jak for his efforts.

_Jak_. She felt calm and focused around him, knew where to go with him guiding her. He was a good friend. _Friend_. The emphasis was on that word, and yet there was still that feeling niggling at her. A girl would have to be blind to not notice his good looks. The feeling had intensified over the last few weeks. He was pulling on her heartstrings more and more. She had to redefine their relationship and ensure she didn't ruin several friendships at once by declaring her feelings.

A shiver pulled her from her thoughts; the temperature had dropped and wind picked up. However, the short time taken to think things over had settled her mind a little. With a resigned breath, she wandered back to her vehicle and clambered back on. She wanted a stiff drink and to just think of other things for a while.

_To The Naughty Ottsel it is_.

* * *

The bar seemed empty at first glance, but stepping further inside revealed a familiar, blonde-green haired figure in one of the booths. Taryn's heart lurched and everything she had sworn to forget came flooding back. She did wonder why Jak sat alone; intending to ask, she approached. He saw her and gave a lazy smile that spoke of a few drinks.

Swallowing harder than necessary, she sat opposite him, and attempted a joke. "You know it's no fun to drink alone."

He blinked at her, then chuckled. "Well, there _was_ a group in here, but everyone else's gone."

"Then why are _you_ still here?"

"Just felt like…staying for a while."

"Oh. Then…you don't mind if I join you?"

"Nah."

Taryn jumped from her seat and trotted over to the bar, grabbing a few bottles and glasses, then hauled them all over to their table and settled back into the booth. She poured a glass for herself, then held it up to Jak. He did the same, and they clinked their glasses, before drinking.

Between sips, they passed the time with the odd topic here and there, discussing hobbies, talents, likes and dislikes, but the mood abruptly shifted, as he pointedly brought up the subject of racing.

"Why're you worried about entering the Championships?"

Astonished by his words, she almost choked on her drink, then placed it onto the table and gave him a startled stare. Deliberating for a moment, she then answered him with a shrug, but he tilted his head at her, silently probing for further details. In the hot seat, she fidgeted and finally gave in.

"I just have bad memories," she admitted.

"Tess said you tried out a couple of years ago to help the Underground, but that was all."

"Oh. She mentioned it…" Taryn swept her fringe out of her face.

"Yeah." Jak looked forward, straight into her eyes. He resisted the urge to grasp her hands across the table. "What is it? What happened?"

The seventeen year old swallowed hard and paused, debating how good an idea it would to reveal everything. She found it hard to fight his questions – especially when he used that soft voice – and couldn't quite bring herself to look into his cerulean optics, instead staring at her drink.

"About a couple of years ago, I was in the Championship. I'd just finished a race, and was in the garage, when I was suddenly approached…" she began. "…by Erol."

Jak's eyes widened and his mouth fell open. _That bastard_. He was the cause of this. Jaw tightening and purple-black momentarily flashing in his irises, he was compelled to know more. "What did he do?"

"At first, I didn't know why I'd caught his eye. He was so charming, but the cracks quickly appeared. Turned out he knew I was connected to the Underground. We went head-to-head in the Class 1 race. But, just before the race began, he fixed explosives to my bike. When we were racing, he waited until we were almost at the finish line. I was winning."

Taryn was skilled enough to go against Erol and prevail? Jak admired her spirit even more, yet her expression told him she was about to say something terrible in the continuation of her story.

"Then the racer malfunctioned. I jumped…_seconds_ before it blew up. I was hurt, but alive. Then I saw the smirk on Erol's face. It was so obvious he'd done it, but what proof did I have? My word against his? So, I dusted myself off and kept as far away from him as possible. I hadn't expected that experience to affect me so much. Stood on the track today, I wanted to see if I could move on. It's been long enough, and…he's dead, after all." Taryn looked deeply into Jak's understanding countenance. "Most people thank you for saving the world from being destroyed, but I think getting rid of Erol makes you a hero."

Feeling a great weight lift from her heart, her lips curved into a smile. He tilted his head at her, curious about another sudden change in demeanour, when she raised her drink.

"To your success," she elucidated. His eyebrows rose, before he mimicked her action.

"Yours, too," he added, clinking his glass against hers.


End file.
